


M’Baku/2ndpov Reader - Arranged Marriage & Cunnilingus & Fingering & Biting & First Time Sex

by kiddcorp



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Biting, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingering, First Time Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 16:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddcorp/pseuds/kiddcorp
Summary: requests are taken at pillowfort.io/kiddcorpthank you to @amberjliu on tumblr for the request!





	M’Baku/2ndpov Reader - Arranged Marriage & Cunnilingus & Fingering & Biting & First Time Sex

**A chorus of barking, whooping calls** preceded the Jabari tribe before they were within sight. You stood by your brother’s side, equal to him, and steeled yourself for the arrival of your potential betrothed. A glance at your brother saw you the stone-carved image of Sobek. The crocodile god’s effigy, with open maw and rows of teeth, lent your brother’s barely matured face a strong outer appearance. You knew better. It was because of your sibling’s unwillingness to take the throne so recently emptied by your father that today was even happening. This alliance with the Jabari would not only benefit both parties, but also move rule to you.

  
The Jabari tribe broke the treeline, marching towards the banks of the Omo River where you stood, and hollering all the louder. Fronting the battalion, their king was easy to spot. M’Baku, the Gorilla King, was a tower of a man, broad in shoulders and thighs who strutted with confidence and pride. The knobkierie he carried had a longer staff than was customary. It was a weapon made for a king who enjoyed fighting; a weapon to better bash in the skulls of his enemies. Obscuring his face too was a stone mask, created in the image of the Jabari god, Hanuman. The roaring gorilla with its furrowed brow and fangs looked more hostile than simply a badge of ferocity.

  
The closer M’Baku grew the more intimidating his presence became. He was considerably taller than you or your brother. His attire -- all leather, fur, and bulky armor -- gave him the air of a king deserving notice and respect. A warrior-king before a child’s reluctance. When the Gorilla King stepped to yours the Jabari quieted in a single hush. The silence could not be ignored. M’Baku drew back his head, stance tense and formal. Your brother made no first move.

  
You leaned in toward your brother, whispered sharply, “Remove your mask.” Hanuman’s likeness shifted to you. The dropped angle of the mask signaled the man behind it was checking you out. The mask rose back to your face and you let your flat expression speak for your disapproval.

  
Sobek gave way to a young boy with not a whisker on his chin or a wrinkle in his face. Following suit, Hanuman revealed a strong, bearded jaw and eyes darkened with age and conflict. At the corners of the M’Baku’s eyes were the faintest crow’s feet. A man fond of smiling. Not just rare for a king, but endearing at say the least.

  
Your brother reached out in welcome. “I’m pleased that you have agreed to met this day, King M’Baku.” The Gorilla King clasped his armored forearm with your brother’s naked one. Each took the other’s elbow in solidary greeting.

  
“I offer my compassion for your late king’s passing.” M’Baku’s voice was that of a king, deep and even. “He was a good man and a great ruler. He will be missed.”

  
“Thank you but it is the future we move towards and plan for.” Your brother looked to you and you to him. All he had to do was recite your words and this would go well enough. “As it is, this proposed marriage between our tribes could bring a new age of prosperity to all. Bluntly, I have no wish to rule -- now or ever. I sit upon our father’s throne, not because I am the most qualified, but because I am his only son. A marriage between the Jabari and Umlambo tribes will see that you, King M’Baku, unseat me from my duties and install my sister to her rightful rule.”

  
“Quite the speech, boy-king.” M’Baku barely hid his disgust with a sneer. He looked to you. “Speak words that are your own.”

  
Your brother licked the inside of his cheek, annoyed. “My words are my sister’s but my will is mine. What I --”

  
“Then speak,” M’Baku addressed you. “Your ideas will come from you.”

  
“Mind your manners, King M’Baku,” you said and were taken back by the upturn of his lips. “The terms have been laid out: if an arrangement is struck, I will rule my people, you will not.”

  
M’Baku clicked his tongue. “There is no benefit for me to defy tradition for Umlambo convenience.”

  
You very nearly rolled your eyes, a gesture the Gorilla King noticed with more amusement. “There is only good that can come from this union. Do you really not understand why I’ve come to you?”

  
“All women come to me,” M’Baku joked, holding his arm out in boast. A few barks rose from the warriors at his flank.

  
“The Jabari are an outcast tribe, like the Umlambo. There aren’t many of us and we have been overlooked and overshadowed for too long,” you explained. This sobered M’Baku and his smile dropped. “But we are also powerful tribes who control vast acreages of some of Wakanda's most valuable land. Jabari territory ends at the Omo River, this river. You cannot utilize its trade routes, hunt its banks, or fish its waters. That is all Umlambo governed. Accept my proposal with my stipulations and the Jabari will have access to all the Umlambo can offer.”

  
The Gorilla King laughed to himself, loud and genuine. “Hanuman has blessed me with day with a marriage proposal from a staunch woman. I agree to your terms. The day before the next full moon will see us married.” He stepped back, made to place his god’s mask back over his face. Stopping short, he turned to you. He grinned. “Tell me, woman, will you be a virgin bride?”

  
“You’ll find out on our wedding night,” you said coolly.

  
M’Baku’s smile disappeared behind his mask. “This is going to be fun, I think.”

 

* * *

 

 **Sourness parched your tongue,** pinching your face tight. The lemon had your whole body shrinking away from its overwhelming flavor. Sucking all the juice from your half of the lemon left you cringing but only when it was dry did you pull it from your teeth. Licking your cheeks felt foreign, almost rough. M’Baku stood opposite you, tweaked by the same fate. His face too was scrunched together, mouth puckered around his lemon half. The yellow rind showed between his lips. His hand grasped yours tightly where they were knotted together. Brightly patterned kente cloth and multiple strands of cowry shells tied his left to your right. A symbol of togetherness and commitment.

  
All around you the wedding party laughed at the show. Prominent members and warriors of both the Jabari and Umlambo tribes were present to celebrate the marriage. A low drum beat filled the ceremony hall and guests sang and laughed as you and M’Baku were wed. The shaman between you guided you both through the wedding rituals, offering words of wisdom and prayer. Children raced through the crowd, giggling and screaming.

  
When M’Baku recovered, rubbing his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth but smiling nonetheless, the shaman said, “As the lemon represents the sourness felt in every marriage’s hardships and disagreements, so does the vinegar represent the bitterness that comes of such disharmony.”

  
The chewed lemon rinds were exchanged for small wooden bowls of vinegar. The crisp odor filled your nose and the sterility of it stung your eyes. M’Baku tapped his bowl into yours in a silent toast. He did not move to drink his first and instead urged you on with an eager nod. A dull clunk of your bowl to his and you chugged yours down in a few mouthfuls. Lemon and vinegar was a horrendous combination. For a moment your lungs almost seized against the vinegar’s fumes but you prevailed. Teary eyed, you took a clean and even breath, holding M’Baku’s challenging stare with a smile.

  
Big mouthed as he was it was no surprise that M’Baku downed his vinegar in one swallow, looking triumphant until that first breath caught him off guard. Just like yours had done, his lungs refused to hold the vinegar’s fumes, but M’Baku failed to control himself and launched into a horrible coughing fit. He beat his chest with his fist, breath taken by the shock of it. Umlambo laughter erupted at his misfortune. Jabari barking filled the room, whether to mask their king’s mistake or to parody him was unclear, and your laughter joined the guests’. M’Baku noticed, despite his fit, and gripped your arm with his free hand, jostling you as he coughed even more melodramatically, loud and obnoxious, so everyone in the room was sure to hear him.

  
After another minute or so when the room had settled, the shaman continued, “Sourness and bitterness are cousins to dispassion and contempt. All can be managed, however, when both husband and wife seek unity, love, and happiness from one another. A marriage can be as fiery at its end as it can be at its beginning, and all the time in between. But the desire for physical, mental, and emotional harmony must burn strong within each of you. The cayenne pepper represents the spice a marriage requires to ensure love can not only remain but grow in years to come.”

  
M’Baku had no issue with this trial. One bite to the stem, a few crunches, and he was done. Not even the lingering heat of the cayenne seemed to affect him. By example you bit to the stem, chewed quickly, but found your pepper unable to go down. Your throat tightened against the heat and refused to swallow. Spice overtook you. The vinegar tears you had held back now flowed down your cheeks as your mouth set ablaze. You tilted your head back to help get the pepper down and found a flood of saliva was your body’s answer to this small torture. Holding your throat in hopes of massaging the pepper down, you finally swallowed it all. M’Baku’s laughter at your expense was boisterous and deep. He held his stomach for emphasis, as if to keep himself together, squeezing your fingers in his. The wedding party joined in at your pain, the children particularly finding it funny. The smiling shaman instructed you to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth to cool the flames more quickly.

  
“When the heat has subsided,” the shaman said. “It is gentleness, understanding, patience, intimacy, and affection that bind a husband and wife together. Honey is the sweetness that keeps a marriage grounded, couples centered, and relationships strong throughout a lifetime. May honey flow when the pepper’s heat subsides so that love can guide you forward together.”

  
From a small jar of raw honey you both took a dipper coated in golden viscousness. This sweet treat was no problem to consume. You licked at the dippers like messy children, smiling at each other and M’Baku gripping your fingers beneath the kente cloth. Honey stuck between your fingers and to his beard and dripped thickly to the floor. You looked to the guests around you and their cheerfulness swelled your heart. To M’Baku, who watched you all the same, you smiled wide and genuine, flicking your tongue out to get a piece of honeycomb stuck in the dipper. He slit his eyes at the imagined challenge, lapping out with the full width of his tongue. A flare of arousal flew through you.

  
The shaman palmed his hands together, a gentle easiness making his face peaceful. “This marriage between Jabari and Umlambo tribes will see a new and prosperous era for all. May the blessings of Sobek and Hanuman see this union blessed by children, longevity, and love. Let the evening continue with blessings and song.” To the increased rhythm of the drums, the shaman clapped his hands, ushering you and M’Baku into the crowd as voices filled the hall.

  
M’Baku pulled you to a stop by your joined hands, stepped close so only you could hear. “I am happy, my queen. You are beautiful and my heart is full of hope. Let us consummate this marriage and return to our tribes joined by common blood.”

  
“Yes,” you breathed, smiling to hide your desire.

 

* * *

 

 **A network of tunnels carved through the mountains’ interiors** connected the separate buildings of the Jabari stronghold. It was a smart way to avoid the outside elements and you credited the ingenuity. M’Baku lead you through the maze, pointing out rooms along the way that would be used during your reign, explaining some of the more valuable artifacts displayed in each corridor. Thankfully, he kept the conversation light. An unexpected nervousness had bred inside you, overriding the excitement you felt for your new king and the joy you had accrued during the ceremony.

  
His private quarters were down a long hallway by itself. The ceiling leading down was layered with antlers from countless antelopes, gemsboks, rams, wildebeests, all interlaced with lights that gave them beautiful halos.The entrance to his room was guarded by a pair of Jabari warriors and, to your surprise, a pair of Umlambo. Each was decked in armor and weapons, all of them stoic and statue still. You had not sent for your tribesmen, so perhaps your brother had taken the initiative. You made a mental note to thank him later: the familiar presence of your people had a calming effect on your twisted stomach. It helped knowing they were here for you.

  
M’Baku’s bedroom was small for a king, quaint almost. The exterior wall was entirely glass, providing a glorious view of the valley below and the pristine, snowy mountains rising up into the endless galaxy dotted with diamond stars. Centered under a vaulted ceiling was an oversized bed piled with furs. From the exposed joists hung long and colorful banners that draped down to the dark wood floor. Each banner was woven with scenes from Jabari or Wakandan history. Some stories you knew. Others you would learn soon enough.

  
The kente cloth being untied drew your attention back to M’Baku. “I’ve never been with a man. Not like this,” you said. The words had slipped from your tongue and so had a weight from your shoulders.

  
He did not seem surprised by the news. “‘Not like this’?” His eyebrows raised as he grinned in curiosity. “How were those other times?”

  
“Enlightening,” you said. M’Baku hummed a note to himself, draping the cowry beads and kente cloth around your neck to admire the colors against your skin.

  
“I’ll be gentle with you,” he promised. “This time.” Blood rushed into your cheeks, flushing your skin hot and dark. He said, “Kiss me, woman. Let me erase the memory of those enlightenments and all their shortcomings. Let me be the only man you will ever need.”

  
The timbre of his voice and the offer it spoke was fuel for the fire inside you. He took your face in his large, calloused hands, brushed his rough thumbs across your cheekbones. His lips were chapped, gentle and warm. Soft and careful passion flowed from every bit of him and you could not help but to open your mouth to his affections. His hands smoothed down your back, arms wrapping you up, so he could press you against his frame. Your embrace went around his shoulders, reaching up to do so, where the fur of his uniform felt sleek on your skin. A hand stroked down the back of his neck in a gesture that earned you a rumbling groan. The vibrations fed down your throat directly to your flaring desire. M’Baku’s arousal was evident, pressed hard into your abdomen.

  
“Undress me,” you commanded, already pulling at the multiple layers of your dress.

  
M’Baku helped just as eagerly, ripping seams where knots did not untie quick enough. Your laughter rang out, sweet and lovely, when his patience ended and he took fistfuls of fabric to shred. Pulling his face to your’s, you kissed him so that he could taste your happiness. He lifted you, arms around your waist and lips still to yours, so that the dress fell in a pile at your feet. Like this he carried you to the bed, squatting to sit you on the edge of the mattress and kneeling down between your parted legs.

  
From your smile he traveled south. Dotting your collarbones with gentle nips and soft, deep notes of laughter, he trailed to your shoulder where he bit down hard to leave defined teeth marks. To steady you, he held your hip firmly as his other wandering hand found your slit. M’Baku’s boldness surprised you, earning him a sharp gasp against the foreign sensation of his fingers. He kissed further down to each of your breasts, biting there and leaving imprints around the swell of each nipple, tongue lapping out to taste you.  
Parting your folds, where his knuckles became wet with your want, he eased his fingers into you, curling them into the nerves bundled in your front wall. Your first moans escaped you as he kept a steady, strong pace. Your orgasm built quickly and your noises gained volume as pleasure fuzzed your concentration. M’Baku pushed you back to lie flat, smiling at you when you looked down your stomach at him.

  
Decked in armor still, he was a vision of a man and of a king. He looked almost animalistic too, biting into your pubic mound and leaving deep marks on your thighs. Holding your gaze he drew his wide tongue across your swollen clit, pursed his full lips against it and sucked. Your hips bucked involuntarily into his mouth and a lowing thunder rose in place of his laughter. He alternated skillfully between biting and licking at your folds, sucking your clit, and massaging your G-spot. The sensation of his beard against your thighs, his breath on your skin, his hand on your breast, brought you to a powerful orgasm.

  
You wanted to call his name but your voice came only in moans, vocal and grand. Your legs shook, closing around his head as your walls clamped down around his fingers. He gave a few more licks to your stimulated clit, sending aftershocks through you so that your abdominal muscles shivered. He held your hips as they bucked, watching you unravel just for him. Not until you opened your eyes did you realize they were even closed, overcome with pleasure as you were. You laid still and breathed, regaining composure slowly. M’Baku removed himself from between your legs, standing, and you could hear the sounds of armor falling heavy to the floor.

  
“M’Baku,” you sighed, looking at him when your mind could focus again. “I’m beginning to forget, I think, all the other times.”

  
The Gorilla King was as large without his armor as he was with it. Thickly muscled and considerably tall, M’Baku was a giant of a man, dwarfing you as he did with most others. His body was heavily marred from bloody battles and violent sparring matches. Most of the scar tissue was old and dull, but there were plenty newer, shinier wounds carved into him. His cock was veined and heavy, leaking thick precum down the underside of his shaft. It was no question now why he had prepped you. He was of considerable girth.

  
He looped his arm under your waist and hoisted you further onto the bed. Surprised laughter opened your face again and M’Baku, as he settled down between your legs so his full weight could rest easy on your hips, kissed your throat to feel the vibrations for himself. His chest swelled with pride of a nature he had long forgotten. I was something a man could get addicted to. You were someone he could get addicted to.

  
Guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance, he pushed with his hips, forward so that your walls parted around him nicely. Even with all his care there was some pain in taking him and you had to shift to find a better a angle. When he bottomed out against your cervix many stinging inches later, and you could feel the thickness of him seated inside you, your pleasure rekindled. Opening your legs as wide as you could gave him all the space he would need to move. He braced himself on his forearms as he started to pick up a good working pace, slow but solid.

  
The longer his rhythm stayed even and controlled, the more obvious it became how much effort and self-control he was exercising. All to not hurt you or tear you or make you bleed. But you were accustomed to him now and such precautions were not needed. He had done so well with you, has been so thorough. You only wanted all of him as how he wanted to be.

  
“Harder, M’Baku,” you moaned into his ear. “Please.”

  
And that was it.

  
He brought his legs up almost under yours, shifting his weight onto his knees instead of his hips atop your’s. Raising himself from lying on you focused even more of his weight down to his hips and knees. He sat back almost onto his ankles and gripped your hips firmly, pulling you flush with his lap. M’Baku worked up his pace quickly, until his hips pistoned into yours with incredible force. You gathered the furs beneath you in your hands, hoping they would anchor you to this world as your body sang with ecstasy. His moans came free and easy now and your joined calls filled the room.

  
It did not take all but a few more minutes before his pattern broke and his hips stuttering as his orgasm neared. The unevenness did wonders for you. Your clit rubbed against the base of his lower stomach as his movement became shallow and all the more powerful. The contact coupled with the throbbing of his cock inside your walls had your orgasm crashing through you once again. Closing in around him, warm and tight and wet, you came. He bucked wildly as his orgasm claimed him, extending his pleasure as long as possible, spilling all of himself deep inside your walls. His climax was loud and his cum was hot, pooling against your cervix as his last thrust sheathed him fully inside you. He repositioned back onto his forearms, still inside you, and his lips on yours were gentle.

**Author's Note:**

> requests are taken at pillowfort.io/kiddcorp
> 
> thank you to @amberjliu on tumblr for the request!


End file.
